


The Seven (Gay) Stages of Missing Your Best Friend

by hanthelibrarian



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Abusive Sonia Kaspbrak, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Angst, Child Abuse, Conversion therapy mention, Electroshock Therapy Mention, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Good Parent Maggie Tozier, Homophobia, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Pining Eddie Kaspbrak, Pining Richie Tozier, Slurs, Sonia Kaspbrak can kiss my ass, Teenage Losers Club (IT), The losers are 15, maggie tozier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23974753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanthelibrarian/pseuds/hanthelibrarian
Summary: Eddie and his mom leave Derry for a week for a family reunion. Each member of the Losers Club misses their friend but none more than Richie. Told from the perspectives of both Richie and Eddie, this fic tells the tale of two teenage dumbasses pining over each other while their friends (and family) watch from the sidelines.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 15
Kudos: 115





	1. Yearn

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic that I'm publishing in (2? 3?) years so hit me with that sweet, sweet feedback
> 
> Tags will be added as the work progresses
> 
> Chapter 1 edited and reuploaded 05/03/20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie is acting a bit weird after Eddie's left for his family reunion and Bev is determined to sort it out.

It’s May 1991 and it’s been a week since school let out. The Losers have all been basking in the freedom that summer brings. Their group, however, is losing a member for a short time to a family reunion somewhere in Vermont. A chorus of goodbye’s rings out as the Kaspbrak’s station wagon pulls away, Eddie frantically waving through the rear window before turning around abruptly as his mom’s insistence. Richie watches, his farewell soft and dying on his lips. _A whole week without him_ , he thinks to himself. The other Losers start talking amongst themselves about what they’ll do while Eddie’s gone with Ben chiming in that anything they do wouldn’t be the same without him. This is met with nods of agreement from the others. A few ideas are thrown out: the quarry (no, it’s something they all do together), the Aladdin (“but it’s so sunny out,” Mike argues), the Barrens (Stan and Bill are up for it but Ben wore his new shoes and “my mom would be upset if I got them dirty, Bill.”) Richie tunes them all out, not because he doesn’t care but because he’s too focused on the car fading into the distance.

“-you think, Richie?” Bev’s soft voice startles Richie out of his thoughts.

“Hm? Yeah, yeah, whatever’s fine,” he says offhandedly, not really knowing or caring what the question was. _How do I make it a whole week without him?_

The rest of the Losers look at each other, surprised at Richie’s lackluster response. Usually when he’s distracted, Richie still cracks some kind of inappropriate or offhand joke. When Richie shakes himself off and starts joking around again, none of them think on it anymore. None of them but Bev, who keeps a close eye on Richie for the rest of the day. Some part of her mind had noticed Richie’s behavior in the days leading up to Eddie’s trip but she hadn’t paid it any attention; it was just Richie being weird, as usual.

The group, after hanging out in the park for a bit, goes to On the Record, a local music shop, not too far from their favorite ice cream shop, that they liked to frequent every week or so, even if they didn’t buy anything. The shop owner, John, enjoys having the teens around, thinking of them as the kids he never had. When they enter the shop, he greets them happily, pointing out a collection of snacks that he set out after he saw them putting up their bikes outside.

“Aw, thanks, Mr. Beck,” Mike says as he and the others grab juice-boxes and fruit snacks from the counter. The shop owner always has the best snacks Derry’s grocer has to offer.

“Now, Mike.” John, bushy eyebrows furrowing, is frowning at the boy. “You know y’all can call me John, Mr. Beck is my father.” At that, the whole group starts laughing, patting Mike on his back as he tries to keep from grinning. Each of the Losers has gone to John with their problems in the past, their relationships with the kind shop owner stronger than any they’ve had with other adults; despite this, Mike and sometimes Ben will still be a bit formal when interacting with him. They’ve been taught all their lives to treat adults with formality and they’re still adjusting.

“Where’s Eddie?” John looks around the group, looks out the front windows, then back to the group. “His mom didn’t lock him in the house again, did she?” The Losers knew how much John disliked Sonia Kaspbrak. She called the shop once or twice a month to scream at him about how much sugar he was giving her poor Eddiebear and how the disgusting music in his store would rot her poor sick boy’s brain.

John once pulled Eddie to the side over winter break when he heard the other Losers talking about Sonia. “You ever want out of there and need someplace to go, I’ve got an apartment above the shop I’m not using. You say the word, it’s yours.”

Eddie had looked conflicted, like he wanted to accept but resignation soon settled on his features. “Thanks, John, but it’s not as bad as the others make it out to be. She-“

“Loves you, I know.” The shop owner shook his head at that, knowing just how dangerous the wrong kind of love can be. His childhood wasn’t the greatest; his parents had done what they did out of love but man, had it fucked him up for life. “Offer stills stands, even if you just need out of there for a day or two and the gang can’t have you over.”

Despite Sonia’s staunch objection to it, Eddie took him up on the offer a few times. Sometimes he just needed her out of his mind and he knew that if he went to Bill’s or Stan’s, they’d want to talk about it. Ben’s mom and Bev’s aunt didn’t have space and Richie’s parents were…too much like everything he wanted in parents. Mike’s grandpa wasn’t fond of townies so his place wasn’t available either.

John’s reminiscing is interrupted by Ben explaining that Eddie had gone to a family reunion with his mom and that he’d be gone for a week. The shop owner inhales sharply before forcing a smile. Eddie knew how to get ahold of his friends if he needed help, he didn’t need to worry too much. “Well, I’ll make sure to set aside his share of snacks because he’ll deserve a little sugar after a week with only family members around!” The teens laugh at that and Richie sneakily puts back Eddie’s share onto the counter; he had had the same idea.

Greetings and snacks out of the way, the Losers roam around the music shop. The shop isn’t too big; the tiny pharmacy in town has more space than the shop but the Losers, and the rest of the town, enjoy looking through the stacks of vinyl, cassettes, and sheet music. Splitting up as they usually do, the Losers head over to their preferred sections: Bill and Mike flip through records in the new arrivals section while Stan and Ben discuss the finer points of Billie Holliday, The Beatles, and, for Ben’s sake, New Kids on the Block.

Bev is debating on whether she should buy her aunt a Fleetwood Mac vinyl or if she should buy herself a Heart album when she notices Richie humming to himself. At first, she thinks it’s just a random tune but eventually she realizes that he’s humming one of the songs Eddie put on a mixtape for him last week. _Something to keep you company while I’m gone, dickhead_ , Eddie had said as he tossed the tape to Richie, mouth twitching as he tried to hide his grin. A light blush had spread across his cheeks but that could be explained away by how much time they had spent in the sun that day, or so Richie liked to think.

“U2? Really, Richie,” Bev whispers in his ear, having moved behind him while he was distracted. Richie jumps, nearly knocking over a pile of cassettes.

“Christ, Bev, I about shit my pants,” he yelps before composing himself. His hands come up in front of his face in mock horror. “I know you can’t resist my wily charms and rugged good looks, but you gotta warn a guy before you get up in his personal space!” He wiggles his eyebrows as he says this, getting a chuckle out of his friend and some weird looks from the metalhead in the corner.

“Rich, you should be glad it was me and not Bill or Stan,” she snorts out, laughing at the thought. “They’d never let you live it down! ‘All I Want Is You’? Bill’s _mom_ is obsessed with that song.”

Huffing cockily, Richie pushes his thick glasses up his nose with one finger. “She’s got good taste, then. I mean, not as good as Eddie’s mom, though, am I right?” he says with a wink before turning to high five Eddie before he realizes he’s not there. “Man, those jokes aren’t as funny without Eds yelling at me.” _I’m not as funny without Eds here_ , he thinks before forcing the thought out of his head.

Bev hums, nodding her head. She had noticed that, even though Richie had been trying (and mostly failing) to crack some jokes today, everyone was quieter than usual. Eddie really did liven things up whenever he was around. “He’ll be back soon and then you’ll be able to annoy him nonstop until his next family reunion.” She says this with a smile, knowing just how much the two really enjoy their banter, but it soon drops when she notices how Richie’s face falls. “I-I mean, not _annoy_ him but, you know…” She tries to recover but Richie is already shrugging and looking through the cassettes again.

“I know I annoy him, I just-“ he cuts himself off and pretends to examine a cassette closely. “Sometimes I wonder why he keeps me around.” He chuckles emptily and shakes his head. They’re quiet for a while, neither knowing quite what to say next. After a while of Richie glancing at Bev out of the corner of his eye, she takes that as her cue to check in on the other Losers. Maybe they know how to cheer the group’s comedian up.

An hour or two later and the group is split up; Ben, Bill, and Stan went to go grab games and comics from Bill’s house and Mike went back home to help his grandpa with chores. It’s just Bev and Richie in the clubhouse and Bev is fed up with Richie’s odd behavior. She decides enough is enough, especially when Richie keeps sighing while lounging in the hammock.

“Okay, Rich, spill. What’s going on?” she asks as she sits in Eddie’s usual spot in the hammock, not noticing how tense Richie gets when she settles in.

Richie looks up suddenly, eyes wide. “N-Nothing! I’m just, you know, reading my comic.” As he says this, he holds up an old Superman comic, one that he’s read a million times by now,

“Bullshit.” Bev tugs the comic out of his hands and waves her hand around the clubhouse. “No one else is here so don’t lie to me.” She sighs and worms her way to curl up against Richie’s side, setting the comic open on her lap. “You know I love you, right, Rich? You can tell me anything. Rich and Bev versus the world, remember?”

At first, Richie looks like he’s going to tell her everything but he glances back to the comic and pales. The page that Bev can see shows Superman carrying Lois Lane to safety, practically kissing with how close they are. When Bev curls into his side, Richie gulps and runs a hand through his hair, bumping his glasses off-kilter. “It’s nothing, Bev, I’m just- I’m tired and did I eat lunch? Maybe that’s it, I’m always forgetting to eat anything more than cereal and-“

“It’s Eddie, isn’t it?”

Richie squeaks, his glasses fully falling off his face when he sits up abruptly, legs swinging over the side of the hammock. He starts stammering, mouth moving a mile a minute without actually saying anything. Bev just sits and smirks for a minute before pulling Richie back down.

“Calm down, Rich, I won’t tell anyone.” What she doesn’t say is that she doesn’t need to tell anyone because the whole world could probably see how Richie feels about Eddie. The whole world, except for Eddie. It’s not something that the group talks about regularly but they all know that Richie’s ‘innocent’ jokes were anything but. You can only call someone “cute, cute, cute!” before people start realizing that it’s not a joke, but rather a confession.

Richie is holding his glasses in his shaking hands, wiping them with his shirt corner. Without his glasses, his eyes are less bug-like but still quite large and quite, Bev is surprised to think, sad. When those large eyes start tearing up, Bev realizes just how serious this crush is.

“Oh, Richie,” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around him as he starts sniffling. “It’s okay, he’ll be back soon.” She starts running her hand up and down his arm, trying to calm him down. If she had known how serious this was, she would have pulled him aside earlier this week, before Eddie had left.

“It’s not that,” he says, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. His eyes are still sad but there’s something else there that Bev can’t quite name. He leans into Bev’s hug but won’t meet her eyes. “I mean, it is but I just, I-“ he shudders, taking a deep breath, “I miss him when he’s here, too.”

Confused, Bev moves closer to ask him what he means but stops when she hears footsteps and voices approaching the clubhouse entrance. Quietly, she puts Richie’s glasses back on his face, pats his head, and moves to her usual spot across the room. Right as the trapdoor to the clubhouse opens and the voices of Bill, Ben, and Stan grow louder, Richie and Bev make eye contact, silently agreeing to discuss this more later. Before they join in on the argument over which game to play (“n-no, Stan, we are not p-playing Monopoly again,” Bill sternly says), Bev finally thinks of a word, one that was one her recent vocab quiz, to describe what she saw in Richie’s sad brown eyes: _yearning_.


	2. Pine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie and his mom are heading to their family reunion when they have an argument. That, in and of itself, isn't unusual, especially as Eddie has been getting more confident in himself. What is unusual is the direction it takes until Eddie finds himself fearing just how far his mother is willing to go to keep him "safe".
> 
> Journal photo based on [this art](https://richiecoree.tumblr.com/post/617405264385163264/hes-probably-using-a-voice) by richiecoree

He’s sitting in the back of his mom’s station wagon, because “the front seat is too dangerous for you, Eddiebear!” It’s been about an hour since he waved goodbye to his friends and he still hasn’t gotten the destroyed look on Richie’s face out of his mind. Why did he look so sad? Is he really going to miss me that much? He thinks on this a bit longer before his mom interrupts his thoughts.

“I wish you wouldn’t socialize with those _dirty kids_ , Eddiebear.” Her voice is thick like a chocolate cake topped with a mountain of buttercream; it scares Eddie sometimes, how much her voice resembles her favorite dessert. “They’ll make you sick, especially that girl. Have you _heard_ what they say about her?”

Of course he’s heard. Who in Derry hasn’t? Gossip in this town spreads quicker than the flu at the height of its season. Greta and her gaggle of girls don’t help any, with how they are always bullying Beverly. He moves forward, about to tell his mom that it’s all lies but she cuts him off.

“A _slut_ , that’s what they’re calling her, Eddie. You aren’t _interested_ in her, are you? You know what happens if you go out with girls like that.” His mom takes a deep, shaky breath, her large chest heaving. She looks at him in the rearview mirror, making eye contact as she says, “You get an STD or she gets pregnant. If she gets pregnant, she’ll murder that baby quick as lightning. If she doesn’t, although she most likely will, you’ll end up like your _friend’s_ parents.”

Confused, he asks who she’s talking about. Her mouth splits into a smirk, her yellow teeth enveloped by her thin lips. She looks back to the road, humming under her breath. “That Tozier boy, he’s a _bastard_ , you know.”

Eddie had been ready to quietly hum and nod along with his mother’s statements for the rest of the car ride. He loves Bev but he knows that he’ll never change his mom’s mind about her. Bev doesn’t mind. Whenever he tells her that his mom ranted about her over dinner or cards or during a commercial break, Bev always says, “Sonia Kaspbrak isn’t someone I give two shits about so why should I care about her opinion?” It’s only when she mentions Richie that he feels his blood boil.

“His mother was just like that slut; she trapped Mr. Tozier with her whorish ways and when she got pregnant, out of wedlock, mind you, she did the only decent thing she’s ever done: she kept it.” His mother sniffs daintily, as if she was too good to even mention the Tozier’s. “They only got married after the good townsfolk raised a fuss. Should have kicked those sinners out _and_ their bastard baby too. But Derry’s too good to folks like them.”

He reaches for his inhaler, chest quivering as he tries to keep his breathing steady. He knows his mother hates Richie but mostly he can ignore that. Richie never seems bothered about it but this, this is something he can’t let slide.

“Richie and his parents are good people!” He nearly shouts this into the spacious vehicle, his voice almost echoing off of the seats and baggage. His mom’s eyes shoot up to the rearview window incredulously. “It doesn’t matter if they weren’t married. They love each other; shouldn’t that be enough?” At this, his mother laughs, shaking her head as if he was still a child, asking if the ice cream cones they once got from the ice cream truck, before she found a hair in her cone and forbade Eddie from ever eating ice cream from there again, grew on trees.

“You see what their _love_ created! A bastard boy who’s too stupid to know much of anything,” she huffs out, her hatred of Richie bleeding through in each word she speaks. “I’d be surprised if that boy even finishes high school.”

Eddie slams his hand down on the seat next to him, startling his mom so bad that she swerves a bit on the road. “He is not _stupid_! He’s one of the smartest people I know. He does so well in algebra that he tutors me. He knows more about current events than our civics teacher and besides all of that, he’s funny and kind a-and one of my best friends.” He takes a breath, steadying his voice as much as he can. “No, he _is_ my best friend. The best friend I’ve ever had and I won’t let you insult him anymore.”

His mother is silent for an uncomfortably long time. 10 minutes pass, then 20, then 30. She seems to be thinking about what to say, how to process what he said. If Richie were here, he’d make some kind of joke about how you could practically see steam coming out of her ears from her thinking so hard. Eddie stifles a chuckle; Richie always has the best jokes, no matter what’s going on. Sure, some of his jokes are a bit obnoxious but that’s just Richie.

He must not have stifled the laughter enough because his mother clears her throat as she glares at him in the mirror. The smile on his face is quickly replaced by a look of fear before he forces it neutral. He meets his mother’s eyes and waits for her to say anything but she doesn’t. She doesn’t say anything until they turn off onto the exit closest to his grandpa’s summer home.

As their car comes off the exit ramp, his mother immediately pulls into a gas station, even though the tank is half full. Eddie doesn’t say anything about this, knowing that his mother is probably going to lecture him a bit about his friends a bit more. What she says, though, scares him.

“Edward Kaspbrak.” His mother’s voice is tight and sharp as a knife. Fear pulses through him, a fear so strong that he was reminded of Henry Bowers and his goons chasing the Losers into Neibolt, pushing him through a hole in the second floor, breaking his arm nearly in two. His breathing gets shallow again, just as it did that day, and he focuses on the seat in front of him to calm himself down. Again, his mother says his name and he looks at her, fear just a bit quelled by the knowledge that she’d never hurt him, not like Bowers did. “Edward, I need to ask you something and you best not lie to me.” The glare she gives him sends another shiver of fear through him, causing him to clutch his inhaler like a lifeline. “Are you a faggot?”

Shock and confusion hit him in waves, one after the other. What was his mother asking? Why would she think that? _Did she find my journal? I knew I should have hidden it better_. He’s about to answer but she cuts him off, as she’s been doing more and more often as he’s grown more confident in himself, standing up to her more. “Are you and that bastard fucking?” The disgust on her face has him gripping even harder onto his inhaler and he hears a faint crack as the plastic cap splits a little.

“W-Why would you think that, Mommy?” He’s using his most innocent tone, one he knows she loves because it reminds her of when he did not doubt her intentions. It doesn’t work.

“Because the way you talk about him is how faggots talk about boys. So I’ll ask you again, are you a faggot?” He can hear hatred and a hint of fear in her voice and he wants oh so badly to be anywhere but here. His hesitation angers her and she slaps her hand against the steering wheel. “Edward, answer me!”

He’s quiet when he answers, his nails digging into his palms. “N-No, Mommy. I’m not a f-f-faggot.” He thinks of his journal, filled with his thoughts that almost always seem to focus on Richie. On his hair and how it looks when the wind is just right and blows it out of his eyes, on his eyes and how they light up whenever Eddie hits him with a good comeback, on the softness in his voice when he calls him “Eds” and it’s just the two of them in the clubhouse but they’re still squeezed in tight in the hammock. He thinks of how often he wished Richie would like him back, how often he pined over that dumbass. He thinks of the photo that’s paperclipped to his newest journal entry, the one with Richie squeezing both of his cheeks, calling him “cute, cute, cute!” It had been taken just the week before and Richie was wearing one of his new shirts, the one with lemons on it. Eddie likes that shirt, so much that he wrote about it in his journal on the first day Richie wore it. _He looks so good in yellow_ , he’d written on a page framed with _Eddie Tozier_ , _Richie Kaspbrak_ , little hearts, _E+R_ and other variations of their names. _He probably doesn’t know it but lemons are my favorite. So is he. Out of everyone in Derry, in the whole world, he’s my favorite._

His mother looks at him closely for a moment before smiling a genuine, happy smile. “That’s good, Eddiebear. If you were, you’d be going to hell and no baby boy of mine is going to hell.” She puts the car back onto the highway and they’re silent for the rest of the trip.

Eddie focuses on his hands, on how much they’re shaking, of how much he now fears his mother. The way she had looked at him, had said that “no baby boy of mine is going to hell”, and how she had kept some of the pamphlets that a local camp had given her about “curing queers through the power of prayer”. He is scared of her, truly, for the first time in his life. He thinks back to her reaction to his broken arm; what would she do if she found out he really is a faggot? Would she hurt him? Would she do everything she’s always promised she’d never do? Would she send him to that camp, to the place where electroshock and aversion therapy is the norm? He feels nauseous and is glad when he sees his grandpa’s summer home, a large cabin with tall windows and a wrap-around porch. He sees his aunt and uncle standing there, waiting for them. He sees his grandpa sitting in the rocking chair on the porch, looking quite upset. He looks around for his cousins and other family members but only two cars are there. “Mommy, where’s everyone else? I thought this was a family reunion.”

His mother’s face is ghostly as they pulled to a stop. Her hands are clenched around the steering wheel, knuckles going red then white. He goes to reach out to her, to comfort her but he remembers the hate in her eyes when she interrogated him at the gas station and he pulls back his hand. She looks scared, more scared than he’s ever seen her, and yet he does not move toward her. His aunt and uncle start walking toward the station wagon, waving stiffly and forcing smiles. His mother curses under her breath, using words he’d never expect her to use. “Eddiebear, no matter what they say, they’re lying, okay? They’re lying and trying to take you from me so don’t listen to them, sweetie.”

His aunt knocks on his window and points toward the lock, miming for him to open the door. He does and gets out, immediately being pulled into a hug. His uncle is helping his mother out of the car and he can see her trying to keep an eye on him and his aunt. She’s being pulled toward the house so she turns as much as she can and nearly shouts at him, “Eddie, I’ll see you inside, okay, Eddie? Okay?”

He gives her a fake smile, as he’s had to do so often these days, and nods as she’s being dragged inside. Once she’s out of sight, he turns to his aunt, a woman he hasn’t seen since elementary school. “What’s going on, Aunt Lorraine? Where’s everyone else?”

She looks at him with such sad eyes that he nearly starts crying himself; something about them conveying the depths of whatever is going on. Something bad has happened or is going to happen, something to do with him and his mom, and he doesn’t know whether he should be happy or sad. Lorraine pulls him into a tight hug, her blonde hair tickling his cheek as she’s gripping him like he’d fade away if she let go. Her voice is soft in his ear as she says, “She won’t hurt you anymore, Eddie, you’re safe.”


	3. Long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Richie have a little chat about what's going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so it's been a little bit but here's the next part! The previous chapter took a wild turn that I didn't see coming so I'm still figuring out where to go from there.

Richie is sitting in the clubhouse, in the hammock he and Eddie usually share, even though it’s noon and he should be at home eating lunch. He hasn’t really had an appetite since talking with Bev the day before. He doesn’t like to let people see past his walls, especially when it’s about something that he’s tried really hard to hide. Bev is too observant, though, so of course she could see it. He just hopes that nobody else can, especially not Eddie. While he’s relaxing in the hammock, daydreaming about when Eddie will come home, Ben suddenly appears next to him.

“Holy shit, Haystack!” Richie nearly tumbles out of the hammock in surprise. “Warn a guy next time, won’t ya?” Ben shrugs an apology and sits on the floor next to the hammock. The look on his face tells Richie that there’s something bothering him and, like any good friend would, he asks him about it.

“What’s got your panties in a knot?” His tone is jovial and friendly but Ben looks at him as if he had joked about fucking his mom, which Richie does tend to do often but usually only with Eddie. “Oh come on, Ben, we’re friends, right? You can talk to me.”

Ben takes a deep breath and blurts out, “What were you and Bev talking about yesterday?” He speaks so quickly that Richie is taken aback, trying to process what he just said. After a few moments, Ben repeats himself but slower. Richie, now understanding why Ben looks so worried, smiles and nudges him with his foot. “Just some bullshit going on at home, the usual stuff.”

“If it was the usual stuff, you wouldn’t have stopped talking when we walked in.” Ben isn’t looking at Richie now, hiding his face so Richie won’t see his lip quivering. “I just want to help you, Richie.”

Richie, still tense from having Bev find out about his feelings for Eddie, snaps back. “You wouldn’t understand, Ben, so just drop it!” As soon as he says that, he regrets it. He knows that Ben is still having confidence issues, especially when it comes to their friend group. He can see the way he longs for Bev to look at him the way she looks at Bill sometimes. He can see how shy he is with the rest of the group, despite them having been friends for a few years. A thought passes through his mind: _Has anyone hung out with Ben one-on-one? Have they shared secrets with him? Have they shown him that they really love him?_ Now determined to show Ben that he cares for him and loves him as a friend, Richie tries to apologize. “I’m sorry, Ben, you know me and my trash mouth; why say something nice when you can say something stupid or mean?”

Ben whips his head around to face Richie, the fire in his eyes startling his friend. “Richie, you’re nice to me, to everyone, all the time!” Richie leans back in the hammock; he had not expected that. “Yeah, you joke around a lot and tease everyone but we all know it’s just because you really love us. You’re not being mean or saying anything stupid. You’re genuinely funny.” Richie’s face is as red as a strawberry now. No one’s really ever said that he was funny; he knows that he can be, sometimes, but it’s nice to hear it.

“Thanks, Ben, th-that really means a lot to me.” Richie reaches out and claps Ben on the shoulder. “I know I might not say this a lot or, like, ever, but you’re a great friend.” Ben grins at him, a blush heating up his cheeks. They sit in silence for a bit, just enjoying each other’s company as they do their own things. After a while, Ben turns to face Richie again.

“I don’t want to keep pushing this, Richie, but anytime you want to talk, I’m here for you. No matter what.” The softness in his voice tells Richie that he means it and while he knows that, he still finds himself hesitating. He isn’t quite ready to tell him but he knows he has to; hell, he wasn’t ready to tell Bev but she figured it out so he couldn’t really _not_ tell her. Keeping this all to himself for so long has just built up so much pressure; he feels like a dam that’s about to explode, his feelings acting as the floodwaters crashing against him, filling up his whole body with this insane _need_ and _want_ and _longing_ and everything that Richie is terrified of. He’s gotta let it out, even just a little bit, or he’s going to burst. Plus Ben is always reading poetry and classic romance novels so maybe he’ll be able to help.

“I can’t tell you everything, not because I don’t want to but because I-“ he sighs, his hands raking through the hair that’s fallen into his eyes. “I just can’t yet and I’m sorry.”

Ben smiles again, something he’s been doing quite a lot lately. Ever since he’d gotten one of the lead roles in the spring play, he’s been beaming like a lighthouse whenever he can.

“What I’m about to say cannot leave this clubhouse, okay?” Richie stares him down, eyes looking even bigger behind his coke-bottle glasses. Ben meets his gaze and nods solemnly. He steels himself, closing his eyes and reminding himself that it’s Ben, his friend, someone he trusts completely. “I think I’m in love and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Ben takes a deep breath, eyes never leaving Richie’s. He’d thought that it would be something like this. “You should tell him.” At this, Richie’s eyes widen, pupils blown out of shock. “You’re pretty obvious about your feelings, Rich, I don’t know why you’re surprised.” Richie groans, his hands digging into his cheeks. He stands up, paces around in a circle, muttering to himself. Ben just waits there, watching him.

“How obvious am I?” Richie’s stopped pacing, standing in front of the hammock where he and Eddie lay almost every day. He brushes his fingertips across the weave of the rope, a shivering sigh escaping his lips when he thinks about the last time Eddie fell asleep in the hammock while they were sharing it. His mind gets caught up in the sound of Eddie’s sleepy murmurs, the sight of his nose wrinkling as he shifted his weight, the way his hair shone in the little sunlight that made it into the clubhouse. He’s pulled from his thoughts when Ben responds.

“Richie,” he says, a little smile spreading across his face. “The only way you could be more obvious is by kissing him in front of everyone.”

A wave of fear crashes over Richie; the knowledge that everyone can see just how in love he is is terrifying. He thinks of Eddie and if he knows, too. If he does, how does he feel about it? Does he feel the same? Is he just, just waiting for Richie to confess so he can let him down easy? Richie stands frozen in front of the hammock, hands gripped tight into fists, so tight that he feels his nails pierce the skin of his palms. Ben comes to stand next to him, hand coming to rest on his shoulder. “He doesn’t know. You may be obvious but Eddie’s oblivious.”

A breath he didn’t know he was holding shudders out of Richie’s lungs; he still has some semblance of control over this.


	4. Ache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie talks with his aunt about his mother, his friends, and Richie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this would take much longer but I guess inspiration struck at the right time. Let me know what you think!

He can hear the faint sounds of an argument coming from the second floor of his grandpa’s summer house. He can’t make out the words but he can tell from the tones of voice that no one up there is too happy. Eddie has no idea what is going on. This was supposed to be a week-long family reunion and yet the only family here are ones that he hasn’t seen for years. His mother always told him that his aunt, uncle, and grandpa wanted nothing to do with him, something he had believed until now. The way that his aunt is looking at him, has been looking at him since they arrived, confuses him. It’s as if she loves him but how can that be when his mother always said that his aunt hated him. He supposes that his mother could have lied, like she lied to him about his health. He stood up to his mother once, telling her that he knew that the pills and inhaler and everything else was bullshit but that didn’t stop her from pushing him to take them. Not taking them wasn’t worth the fights that he and his mother would get into so he kept taking them, at least while she was watching. He still brings his pill pack and inhaler with him when he goes out with his friends because his mother would never let him leave otherwise but he doesn’t use them. When he gets really anxious, he uses the inhaler but it’s mostly just for comfort. He knows it’s fake but it still eases his mind whenever his breathing gets shallow and tight.

He’s still thinking about all of the pills that his mother packed for him for this trip and of how he’s most likely going to have to take them even though he knows they do nothing when his aunt sits down beside him on the couch in the sunroom. He turns to her, confusion clear on his face. “What’s going on? Why did you say she can’t hurt me anymore?” His voice is soft but strained when he says, “She’s never hurt me, not really.”

Lorraine shakes her head, a hand reaching out to touch Eddie before she lets it fall to her lap. “There are more ways to hurt someone than hitting them, Eddie.” When she says this, he thinks back to all of the times that she would scold him for being with his friends, control him like he was some kind of puppet. She never likes it when he stays out for too long and she definitely does not let him hang out with his friends more than once or twice a week, if she can help it. He's been lying to her, saying that he’s tutoring one of the baseball players but now that summer is here, he doesn’t know how he’s going to get her to let him out of the house. Maybe this is what his aunt means because it sure as hell hurts when his mom controls him like that.

“Eddie?” His aunt reaches out to him again and this time he leans into it. He hates when his mother touches him but this? This is nice. Comforting, even. “I know you love your mother and we know she loves you but-“ She cuts herself off, eyes welling with tears. Lorraine takes a deep breath and continues. “Sometimes love can make people do terrible things. We’ve been trying to get her to see someone, get some help but she won’t admit that there’s anything wrong.”

“What do you mean? She said you abandoned us after Dad died.” Eddie looks at his aunt and can see that what his mother told him was a lie. He barely remembers when his dad was still alive, barely remembers his aunt and uncle, his grandpa. He does remember, though, that his mother wasn’t like this then. Something inside her had changed after his dad’s death. “She lied to me, didn’t she? Just like with everything else.”

Lorraine looks a bit shocked. She hadn’t known that Eddie knew that his medicines were fake. She squeezes his shoulder and smiles sadly. “Yes. We’ve been trying to see you for years but she always pushed us away. We came by last month; you were at school so she must have felt it was okay to let us in and that you wouldn’t find out. I saw-“ Eddie cuts her off by pulling a brochure out of his pocket.

“You saw this, didn’t you?” He asks, gripping the brochure tightly in his fist. He had grabbed it before they left home, had read it while his mom wasn’t looking. It was scary, he thought, how close his mom had been to finding out the truth. “She asked me in the car if I was…” Lorraine’s face goes pale. “I told her I wasn’t a-and she dropped it.”

“But?” His aunt prompts, looking at him with sadness in her eyes. God, he was tired of people looking at him like that. His teachers, whenever his mom pulled him from school for the week because someone had the flu. His friends, whenever he told them he couldn’t hang out that day. Even Bev, who had had it much worse with her dad.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” His voice is tight, low, serious. Lorraine holds her hands up in surrender. They sit there for a bit and the silence is awkward. He opens his mouth a few times to speak but he can’t think of anything to talk about. His aunt does the same thing and when they both do it at the same time, they both laugh.

“Why don’t you tell me about your friends, Eddie?” His aunt asks. “You must be missing being able to hang out with them, especially since it’s so early in the summer.”

Eddie lights up a little bit, thinking about all of the things that he’ll get to do with the Losers when he gets back. “Well, there’s seven of us and they’re all so great! Bill is so good with stories; I wouldn’t be surprised if he goes to college for English or something.” He grins, thinking about the stories Bill tells them around the campfires they had last fall. “Bev is one of my best friends; she’s always around to listen and she really enjoys helping people. Stan is so smart that he tutors me sometimes in algebra. He tutors Ben, too. Ben’s the poet of the group. He and Mike get along really well because Mike loves to read.” He keeps going on and on about the group, telling his aunt about all of the adventures that they’ve had: building the clubhouse, riding their bikes around the town, going swimming at the quarry. The only one he doesn’t talk about is Richie. Maybe it’s deliberate, maybe it’s his subconscious but he just doesn’t mention him, despite him being present for all of the stories he talks about. His aunt listens, smiling the entire time but when Eddie finally takes a breath, she cuts in.

“You said there are seven of you but you’ve only talked about five others. Who’s the sixth?” Lorraine smiles knowingly but Eddie doesn’t notice because he’s turning away, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Oh, w-well, that would be Richie.” Eddie’s voice is much softer now than it was when he was talking about his other friends. He hopes it’s not noticeable but he knows that it must be by the way his aunt leans closer. “Richie’s my best friend; he’s always there for me, always trying to make me laugh. A-And he’s not even that funny!” He snorts, thinking about all of the stupid jokes Richie makes at his mother’s expense. “God, he just does it to bug me and it works most of the time but,” he looks around conspiratorially, “don’t tell him but he really is funny sometimes. Sometimes I’ll be watching TV with my mom and a comedian will come on and I’ll think ‘wow, Richie is much funnier than this clown.’” He continues for a bit, praising Richie for his grades, even though no one in the group had ever thought Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier would be the smartest of them. He talks about how Richie laughs at Eddie’s attempts at joking, how he grins whenever Eddie sneaks out to hang out with the group, actively defying his mother. He stops himself when he realizes that he’s been talking about just Richie for a few minutes. His face and neck are burning up with embarrassment and he’s about to backtrack, insult Richie just to give himself some cover because he knows how it sounds, how _he_ sounds when he talks about his best friend.

Lorraine smiles knowingly and says, “He sounds like he’s really special, like he’s someone you really care about.” Eddie clams up, nervous that she’s found out but he remembers what she said about people being who they really are and he lets out a shaky breath. “Yeah, I really like him. Um, you know, _like_ him.” Lorraine smiles again, laying a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it? Sometimes it’s good to get it all out.” As soon as she says that, it’s like the floodgates in his mind have been opened, his mouth moving nearly a mile a minute as he pours out his feelings for Richie.

“Every time I look at him and catch him looking at me it’s like, like when you’re changing the channels on the TV and it’s all static because your connection is bad but then you find that one channel that comes in clearly, the static is gone and everything is just… right. Sometimes I pretend to fall asleep in the hammock in our clubhouse just so I can lay my hand on his leg without being worried about what the others think, about what he thinks. A-And sometimes I get so worked up over his stupidly bright smile on his stupidly handsome face that I just- I glare at him trying to push those thoughts away but he just smiles bigger and brighter and he pinches my cheeks, which I should hate because I hate when Mom does that, but when he does it, it feels so good. It feels like he really cares about me, not even in the way I want him to but just in a good way.” He takes a deep breath and Lorraine moves to speak but he cuts her off.

“Sometimes when he doesn’t come over to spend the night, he does that sometimes without Mom knowing because he knows she’d kill him and he knows that I don’t like sleeping alone. Sometime when he doesn’t come over, I lay there awake, just- just wanting him to be there so I can hug him, especially when Mom gets really crazy over my pills or my inhaler or whatever she decides to freak out over that day. And it hurts when he’s not there but it also hurts when he is, you know? Like, he’s so close and I could do something, I could tell him but I’m not a _girl_ s-so I can’t. And there’s this, like, constant dull ache whenever he’s around me and I should hate it but he makes me feel so good, so brave, and I don’t want to ruin that.”

Lorraine leans back into the couch, eyes wide and blinking as she tries to process everything that Eddie just said. She had thought that it was just a simple crush but she truly underestimated the extent of her nephew’s feelings. “Eddie, I- give me a few minutes to process all of this because, wow, that’s a lot.” Eddie tenses and goes to turn his head away, obviously embarrassed about how he just let all of that out, no regard for who could hear him. Lorraine wraps her arms around him, hugging him close to comfort him. “Eddie, honey, it’s okay to have all of those feelings. I just want to have some time to think about what I’m going to say. Does that make sense?” He nods, his face buried into his aunt’s shoulder and she can feel his shoulders shaking. They stay like that for a while, wrapped around each other. Eddie’s breathing slows as he calms down. He’s never voiced his feelings before, always worried that someone else would hear him, that his mother would hear him, so it feels almost like a weight has been lifted.

His aunt leans away from him after a while, holding him at arm’s length so she can look him in the eye. “Eddie, have you ever thought about telling him?” Eddie chokes on his next breath, coughing until his face turned red. He hears him mom call out to him from upstairs but he ignores her. “ _Tell_ him? W-Why would I ever do that?” He looks at his aunt, face still red and eyes so wide Lorraine swears his eyelids have disappeared. “He’d laugh or-or tell everyone and they’d laugh and then I’d have no friends and I’d be stuck with Mom for the rest of my life and I can’t do that, I can’t tell him.”

“Eddie, I’m not saying that you have to tell him, I’m just saying that, from how you speak about him and your friends, they really care about you and I don’t think they’ll react as badly as you expect.” She brushes a hair from his forehead, smiling softly. “They love you for who you are, every piece of you.”

He sits there, looking at his hands at he thinks about what the Losers would do if he told them. Would they accept it just like they accept that Ben likes Bev? Would they accept him but treat him differently, not let him sleep over anymore? Or would they cast him out completely? God, that’d be something, not even being accepted by the kids who embraced the title of Loser. He’s so scared of losing them but then, in some corner of his mind, he imagines what would happen if Richie felt the same. He’d get to hold his hand, feel those long fingers tangle with his own. He’d get to kiss him, maybe, and feel Richie’s perpetual chapped lips against his own. Maybe he’ll gift him some lip balm first. The thought of Richie putting on lip balm makes him chuckle.

He almost forgets that his aunt is still beside him but he’s not startled when she hugs him again. They’re comforting, he thinks, her hugs. His mother always hugs him too tight, like she wants to absorb him into herself. Aunt Lorraine hugs like she loves him, like she just wants him to know that. Richie hugs him like that too, softly, gently, as if he were fragile but not exactly that. He doesn’t know how to describe it exactly but Richie hugs him like he’s holding himself back, like he wants to grip him tight in his arms. It is this thought that pushes Eddie toward the decision that, yes, he’s going to tell Richie. He’s going to tell him when he sees him again, no matter who they’re with, no matter who can hear him. If it goes to shit, well, he’ll think of what to do then.

He faintly hears his mother arguing with his uncle and grandpa upstairs but he ignores it. Aunt Lorraine promised that his mother can’t hurt him anymore and, even though he wouldn’t say that his mother has ever really _hurt_ him, not in the physical sense, he’s glad. The way his mother treats him, the way she calls him fragile, delicate, weak, it does hurt. And maybe that’s what his aunt meant. Maybe he’ll finally be able to be a normal kid, no shadow of his mother hanging over him with every decision he makes, every time he goes to the clubhouse or the Barrens or even just down Main Street. It’d be nice, he thinks, to be normal, as normal as a Loser can be.


	5. Sigh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie spends the day sighing and moping around in his room.

Richie’s lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling in his room where little glow-in-the-dark stars are taped up. His mom did that for him when he was in elementary school and, while he’d never let his friends know, he loves that they’re still there. They comfort him at night, especially if he had a nightmare. Waking up to the soft light from those little stars helps him forget the fear, the unease that always comes with a nightmare. Eddie’s seen them before, of course, but he doesn’t know how much they mean to Richie. He reaches one hand out above him, reaching for the stars in a way, before letting it fall to his side. He turns over and looks out his window. It’s nice outside and a part of Richie wishes he hadn’t blown his friends off. They had invited him out to the Barrens, an exploration expedition planned, complete with a picnic courtesy of Bev’s aunt. Richie knew this morning and knows now that he’d just be moping around while everyone else was having fun and he wouldn’t feel right being the reason why everyone didn’t have the most fun they could. His whole personality revolves around making people laugh, making them have fun. Richie being mopey would worry them all so he lied and said that his mom had asked him to help out around the house today. Speaking of his mom…

“Richie!” she calls from outside his door. “You should be out with your friends, not holed up in your room all day.” Richie grunts, his response being so unlike him that his mom peeks her head into his room. “Honey, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Mom,” he says, rolling his eyes before turning onto his back again. “I just don’t feel like hanging out with anyone today.” He knows this will worry her more but he doesn’t want to think about that right now. He doesn’t really hear her response to that nor does he really notice her leaving, shutting the door behind her. He’s back in his moping mode. The mode consists of lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling, while trying desperately not to sigh heavily every time he thinks about Eddie. Which is, like, every second. Eddie is almost always in his thoughts, almost always at the forefront of his mind. Sometimes he’ll be thinking about something completely stupid, maybe a joke that he came up with in the middle of the night, and his brain immediately goes “wow, I wonder what Eddie’s laugh would sound like if I told him this one?” or “Eddie would hate this one; he doesn’t like any of my blowjob jokes.”

Richie shakes his head back and forth, trying to clear his mind. He really should have gone out with his friends; maybe then he wouldn’t be lying here thinking about Eddie and sighing like a girl in a goddamn romcom. He hates how much he likes Eddie, hates how much time he spends thinking about what it would be like to kiss his lips, how they’re always set in a straight line, tense, until Richie tells a joke, making Eddie’s tense demeanor crack just a little bit until he’s smiling and laughing alongside the others. He hates how he wants to sleep beside Eddie every night, hold him close whenever either of them wakes up from a nightmare, kiss him goodnight, kiss him good morning, kiss him whenever he feels like it, kiss him just because he can. He wants to hold his hand, walk him to class, take him to the movies, take him anywhere as long as they’re together. He wants to scream at Eddie’s mom, tell her that Eddie deserves better than her and her fake, harmful love. He wants to take Eddie away from this fucking hateful town, take him to where they can be together, really be together, without fear of some asshole like Bowers beating them up. Mostly, he just wants Eddie, any way he can have him. Right now, that means as a friend. _And that’s probably all we’ll ever be_ , he thinks, eyes watering up just a bit before he wipes them, willing himself to not cry because isn’t it enough that he’s been sighing over Eddie all day? He has to cry now, too? He starts laughing at himself when his mom calls to him again, this time from downstairs.

“Richie, honey, you’ve got a phone call!”

He sits up in his bed, groaning the entire time. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now, he just wants to mope around until he can get Eddie’s face out of his mind and focus on something else, anything else. He heads downstairs, making eye contact with the self-portrait he painted in some art class last year that his mom insisted on hanging in the hallway. He flips the painted version of himself off as he passes as he does every morning.

Richie slides into the kitchen, his socked feet gliding over the freshly mopped linoleum and his mom shakes her head, laughing. “Don’t keep Eddie waiting, honey!” He stumbles over his feet as he scrambles to take the phone from his mom.

“E-Eds?” He’s out of breath, not from running to the phone, but from the knowledge that it’s Eddie, Eddie called him. He’s away from this damn town, even if it’s just for a few days, and he’s calling Richie. “Why’re you calling? Miss me that much?”

Eddie laughs dryly, his voice ringing like church bells in Richie’s ear. “Shut up, Trashmouth, and let me talk.” Richie sneaks one more joke in, something about Eddie missing his irresistible buckteeth before going quiet and letting Eddie speak.

“The family reunion, uh, was a trick.” Richie nearly interrupts him, about to offer to come get him but Eddie cuts him off. “It’s fine, Rich, don’t worry. My aunt, I’ve told you about her before, right? Well, my mom lied about her. Aunt Lorraine is actually really nice.” Eddie sighs and Richie can picture him twirling the phone cord around his finger as he tries to think of how to continue. “She and my uncle and my grandpa are taking my mom to a hospital, the kind for people whose brains are sick rather than their bodies. She doesn’t want to go but it was either that or Lorraine said she’d call a social worker and Mom doesn’t want that.” His voice is shaky, breathy, and Richie can tell just how hard it is for Eddie to talk about this. He doesn’t like talking about his mom at all, not even with Richie, so he’s proud of Eddie for reaching out like this. “They’re taking her tomorrow and I’m coming home after that but, see, that’s the issue.”

Richie interrupts him now, too worried for Eddie to really care about how rude it is. “Where will you stay if your mom isn’t coming home with you?” Eddie is silent for a minute and Richie tenses. He knows that Eddie hates being interrupted, that it reminds him of his mom and how she never lets him speak. “I’m sorry, Eds, I didn’t mean to-“

“Well, my aunt and uncle will be moving here to take care of me while Mom’s in the hospital but they can’t come for a while,” Eddie says slowly, choosing his next words carefully. “Would it be alright… I mean I already talked to your parents but I want to make sure it’s okay with you. Would it be alright if I stayed with you before they move here?”

“What?” Richie shakes his head to clear it because he can’t believe what he’s hearing. Eddie staying with him? His family doesn’t have a guest room so Eddie would have to share his room. They’ve spent the night in each other’s rooms but never for more than one night. Richie is quiet for a bit as he thinks about waking up each day with Eddie by his side, in his room. He thinks about Eddie eating meals with him, living with him, just like dozens of fantasies that he’s had over the years. He’s thinking about him and Eddie getting an apartment together when they go to college, a _one-bedroom_ apartment, just for the two of them. He’s thinking all of this while Eddie waits for his answer.

“Uh, Richie?” Eddie’s voice cuts through Richie’s daydreaming, causing him to drop the phone.

“Y-Yeah, Eds, that’s fine with me!” Richie chuckles, trying to cover up the strain in his voice. “Too bad about your mom, though. I’ll miss her sweet, sweet kisses.” He makes kissing noises as he says this, making Eddie groan and threaten to hang up on him. The awkwardness from Richie’s silence earlier is nearly gone and the two chat on the phone for a bit, talking about what’s happened since Eddie left, even though it’s only been a couple of days. When Eddie finds out that Richie ditched their friends today to just mope in his room, he gets upset.

“Get off your skinny ass and go outside, dumbass.” Eddie’s voice is stern, low, and a bit gravely as he tries to sound assertive. It’s probably meant to intimidate Richie but it does nearly the opposite. He feels like his heart is melting at the change in Eddie’s voice and he thinks about how his friend’s voice used to crack earlier this year when he tried the same thing. Just like before, he starts daydreaming about Eddie’s voice; how he’s always liked it, its soft cadence popping up in his dreams at night. Sometimes he feels that he could listen to Eddie talk forever but Eddie would get too flustered a few minutes in most likely. Richie chuckles under his breath at the thought and then he remembers he’s still on the phone.

“Been staring at my ass, Eds? Maybe I’ll have to wear a pair of those booty shorts you’ve got, put on a good show for you.” His voice is shaky and he hopes that Eddie can’t tell that over the phone. The idea of Eddie looking at him at all, but especially at his ass, terrifies him in the best of ways. It gives him an inkling of hope that Eddie likes him back.

Eddie mumbles something that Richie would swear sounds like _maybe I have been_ but that can’t be right. He asks what he said, hoping that Eddie would say exactly what he thought but he doesn’t. “I said that my shorts would fall right off you, ya twig!” They’re both silent for a moment but then Richie hears a voice calling for Eddie on the other end. “Shit,” Eddie says, his voice crackling through the phone receiver. “I’ve gotta go, Rich, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Eddie hangs up before Richie can say goodbye so he’s just standing there, the receiver resting against his ear as he replays their whole conversation in his head.

 _Eddie is going to be staying here?_ Richie thinks. He was nervous immediately when Eddie mentioned it but he forgot all about it during the rest of their conversation. Now that he has time to reflect on it, his face starts burning and he’s standing there, red-faced and slack-jawed, in the kitchen when his mom comes into the room. “Everything alright, Richie?” she asks, a worried tone in her voice. He nods frantically and hangs the receiver up harshly before sprinting to his room. If Eddie is going to be staying over for an extended period of time, his room is gonna need a lot of cleaning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading along as I get back in the swing of writing fanfiction! Just two more chapters and this one will be finished! Follow me on twitter or tumblr @eddiekraspbak to stay up to date with my writing!


	6. Lament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie comes back to Derry.

Eddie stays in the car as his aunt and uncle walk his mother into the mental health facility. She had tried to get him to convince his aunt that this wasn’t necessary and he had nearly broke until he remembered how she had spoken about Richie, about his friends in the car on the drive to his grandpa’s summer house. He had told her that this is what is best, that he knows that she’s been lying to him, trying to keep him away from the rest of their family. The look of horror and shame on her face just confirmed what he already knew: her love and how she expresses it, everything about their relationship, is toxic. He hopes that this facility will help her; perhaps she’ll finally become the mother he has always wanted, the mother he should have had his whole life. Sometimes when his mother was particularly hard on him about his health, about his friends, he thinks back to when he was really little, barely able to form memories, back to when his dad was still alive.

His mother used to be so wonderful then. She’d let him play in the dirt, be a kid. After his dad died, that’s when his mother changed. That’s when she became fixated on keeping him home. Everything the world had to offer, all of the wonderful things he wanted to experience, were now “too dangerous” in his mother’s eyes. His friends did their best to get him away from the stifling confines of his house, away from his mother’s grasp, but a lot of the time he was trapped. Now, Eddie supposes, he’s free. His mother will be somewhere far away from him, getting treatment so that maybe someday she can be the mother he remembers as a young child. The thought gives him a flash of courage and he imagines what would happen if he finally told Richie how he feels.

He thinks about how light he would feel after confessing, how the weight of his secret would finally be off of his shoulders. He thinks about how good it would feel to hold Richie’s hand, even if they had to keep the change in their relationship a secret from the world. He thinks about how soft Richie’s lips would be; he doesn’t look it but Eddie knows that Richie uses lip balm on a near obsessive basis. It catches his eye every time and he swears Richie knows, that he’s started doing it more often just to catch Eddie staring at his lips. Eventually, his mind wanders to what would happen if Richie didn’t react well. Would he push Eddie away, not only physically but also in their friendship? Would he lose his best friend? A bubbling spring of light panic begins forming in his stomach but the thought of Richie somehow, miraculously returning his feelings rises up strong, like a tidal wave about to crash into shore, washing away most of his anxieties. As his aunt and uncle return to the car, solemn but relieved, Eddie makes a promise to himself that before the summer ends, he’ll tell him.

The drive back to Derry starts out quiet, with only the sound of the radio to break the silence. Sometimes his aunt looks back at him as if she wants to ask him questions, to speak to him but she doesn’t. Once they reach the halfway point, Eddie’s had enough of the silence and decides to be the one to end it.

“I’m gonna tell him.” The shakiness that he feels in his chest can’t be heard in his voice and for that he is grateful.

Lorraine turns around in her seat, shoulder straining the seat belt, and stares wide-eyed at him. “You are?”

His uncle peeks at him in the rear view mirror but says nothing. Eddie doesn’t know if he knows what he’s talking about and, right now, with how focused he is on breaking the silence and just getting all of this off his chest, he doesn’t care.

He takes a deep breath, ignoring the way his hand twitches toward his fannypack, subconsciously reaching for his inhaler. “I’m going to tell him before the end of the summer.” Another breath. “I have to or else I think I might explode. I’ve been hiding it for so long and I don’t want to anymore.

Lorraine smiles at him, love and happiness and something else that he can’t describe flashing in her eyes. Eddie can’t help but think about his mother and how long it’s been since he saw her look at him with love, real love, in her eyes. He clenches his fist to keep himself from tearing up.

They talk for the rest of the trip, all three of them, about whatever comes to mind, whatever they see on the roadside. It reminds Eddie of the families that he sees on TV, the families that he always envied because of how happy and normal they looked. Looking at his aunt and uncle in the seats in front of him, holding hands and excitedly talking about the lake they just passed, he thinks he might finally get to experience it.

Soon enough, they’re pulling into Derry, past the park, past the ice cream shop where he and Richie always meet on Tuesdays in the summer, past the alley where they patched up Ben after his run-in with Bowers. As they get closer to the Tozier’s house, the courage he felt outside the facility starts rising again, albeit a touch shaky. Closer and closer they get until Eddie can see the Tozier’s outside except, he notices a bit sadly, that Richie isn’t there with them. He looks around as they come to a stop, eyes drifting over the surrounding neighborhood until he sees him, mouth pulled into a grin, his hair ruffled as ever. Eddie starts to smile, to lift his hand in a wave until he sees the girl standing next to him. She’s blonde, taller than Eddie, and pretty. Her hand is on Richie’s arm and she’s leaning close. _Too close_ , Eddie thinks. A touch of jealousy hits him as he watches the girl do everything he wishes he could do, no fear of repercussions on her part. The jealous quickly turns into rage as the girl does something that Eddie has only dreamed about doing in all of the years since realizing his feelings for Richie: she kisses him on the cheek. Eddie laments his earlier bravery, his stupid, stupid hope that Richie would actually like him back. He gets out of the car, not acknowledging Richie’s cry of “Eds! Eddie Spaghetti!”, and quickly brings his bags into the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I got caught up in a lot of stuff at work :/
> 
> As always, this is unbeta'd because that's a form of vulnerability I'm just not ready for yet.


	7. Crave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie and Richie are back together again. Will they finally confess their feelings or will their fear hold them back?

Eddie’s been there for a few hours now and Richie could swear that he’s purposefully avoiding being alone with him. When he had first run into the house, bags gripped in his soft hands, Eddie had continued straight on up into Richie’s room. Richie’s parents were supposed to have prepared the guest room for Eddie but had gotten sidetracked grocery shopping for two teenage boys. The sheets from the guest bedroom were still in the wash during supper and Richie knew Eddie wouldn’t want to sleep on a bare mattress so the only option was to share a room for the night. Would Eddie giving him the silent treatment kill him first or would having to spend the night so close to his long-time crush send him over the edge?

Richie had tried to talk to Eddie after dinner while they were helping clean up. All he got in return were a few hums and nods, nothing substantial. He had been about to ask if everything was okay, if he had done something wrong but his mom, wonderful and loving Maggie, had interrupted them with an invite to join her and Went for a walk. Eddie had nearly declined, Richie could tell he was about to so he piped up, answering for them both of them. The glare Eddie sent his way gave him shivers and he wondered if maybe he really had done something wrong. He wouldn’t find out during the walk, however, since Eddie kept up his silent act unless it was Went or Maggie talking to him.

The walk, aside from Eddie’s continuation of the silent treatment, was nice. The sun had begun setting and the way the sky was painted with soft orange and pink hues made Richie want to reach out and take Eddie’s hand. He nearly tried once but Eddie had slipped his hand into his pocket the moment Richie stretched his hand out. Was it a conscious decision on Eddie’s part, avoiding Richie like that? Or was it something preordained in his mind? Regardless of the reason, Richie’s heart still fluttered weakly, hurt from his best friend avoiding every part of him for so long.

\----------------------

As soon as he had gotten into the house, Eddie rushed upstairs. He didn’t want Richie or his parents to see the tears falling from his eyes. How could he have been so stupid to think that Richie could possibly ever like him back? The boy was as straight as a fucking arrow and no amount of “cute, cute, cute” or “Eddie, my love” would change that. Eddie tossed his bag onto Richie’s bed and flopped down next to it, hands covering his face, trying to stop the tears. He’d still tell him, still confess how he felt because he had promised himself this. Maybe it would be freeing to finally be honest with himself and Richie. Maybe Richie would take it like a champ, smile wavering only slightly as he tried to understand just what Eddie was saying. Or maybe this would be how he and Richie split apart for good. College was something Eddie had always worried about simply because he didn’t want to lose his friends. Turned out, he and Richie were planning on applying to the same schools. The others were going to be more spread out but Eddie could handle that. What he wouldn’t be able to handle is being away from Richie. He had grown too dependent, too in need of his constant reassurance and care. Some part of him was angry at Richie, angry at the girl too although he couldn’t really blame her for liking Richie. The boy was tall as a cornstalk and you could tell he was going to be _big_ in a few years. He was hot, although Eddie wouldn’t say that to his face, not yet. Hot and now Eddie is living with him for a few weeks. Would he survive seeing Richie at his most comfortable, most vulnerable?

Dinner had been…awkward to say the least. Not for lack of trying on Went and Maggie’s part but Eddie really didn’t want to accidentally blurt out his feelings over a plate of pot roast and root vegetables. After dinner, Richie had almost said something to him and Eddie thought maybe now was his chance but Maggie had come in inviting them to go for a walk. Eddie’s courage had been rising all night and he wanted the two of them to stay home so they could talk but Richie decided to take it upon himself to answer for the two of them. Eddie couldn’t help himself from glaring at Richie; he was nearly an adult, he could make his own decisions, thank you very much.

The walk was almost as awkward as the dinner. Not only was the setting romantic (come on, clouds, quit being so goddamn beautiful in the sunset) but he and Richie had to walk behind Went and Maggie who were being their usual lovebird selves. Seeing the two holding hands and whispering to each other like lovesick teenagers made Eddie all the more aware of his low chances of ever having that with Richie. He had thought about taking Richie’s hand and had nearly reached out but at the last minute shoved his hand into his pocket. No need to make a scene in front of the Toziers; they didn’t deserve to see Eddie have a meltdown.

\-----------------------

It’s late now and Richie is lying on the floor in his old sleeping bag that’s too small for his lanky frame, wondering if Eddie is still awake. He’s about to call out to him, whisper a soft “Eds” when he hears a gentle sob coming from underneath the covers on the bed. The sound tears through Richie like a hot iron, scalding and ripping open his insides like he’s about to be served up on a platter. He wishes he could hold Eddie in his arms right now, craves the intimacy that it would bring. He wants to brush his fingers through Eddie’s soft (oh so soft) hair, wants to murmur into his shoulder just how much he loves him, how much he wishes he could take away the pain his mother subjected him to all his life. He wants to slip under the covers next to Eddie, curl up behind him and sleep, just sleep until the daylight shining through his window wakes them and they smile at each other, soft and warm and so intimate that Richie can barely breathe. He has to do it, has to comfort him somehow so he reaches out. His hand barely brushed the sheets, edging its way closer to Eddie when a tear-soaked voice whispers, “Don’t.”

\---------------------

Curled up under the covers of Richie’s bed, Eddie finds himself crying again. The longer he puts off telling Richie, the worse he starts to feel because he feels as if he’s lying, hiding such an important part of himself from his best friend. He feels guilty yet all he can think about is how much he wishes Richie were in this bed with him, arms wrapped around his waist, holding him tight as he cries. He wants Richie’s soft snoring in his ear, craves the intimacy of a hand in his own or perhaps in his hair. He wants a warm arm around his waist and a soft chest at his back. He nearly turns over to invite Richie up and into the bed but the thought of that girl from earlier comes to his mind and Eddie has to hold back bile as it rises in his throat. He feels a hand reach out and brush against the edge of his bed and he can’t stop himself from softly crying out, wet and defeated, “Don’t.”

\--------------------

Richie pulls back, stunned. All he wants to do is comfort Eddie but apparently that isn’t what Eddie wants. _Fuck it_ , he thinks, balling his hands into fists by his sides. _I’m not letting him do this by himself._ And so Richie sits up and pulls himself onto the bed, slipping under the covers smoothly, barely making any noise. He can hear Eddie squeak in protest and if he wasn’t so worried about his friend, Richie would find it so incredibly cute. He pulls Eddie to his chest, wraps his arm around his waist like he had dreamed about so many times before.

“Eds,” he whispers, the sound soft and barely able to be heard over the silence in the room. “I don’t know what I did but I’m sorry. I just- I want to be here for you, with everything that’s happened with your mom and stuff.” He can feel Eddie shaking slightly in his arms, the telltale signs of silent sobs. Richie rests his forehead on the back of Eddie’s neck and waits, waits for Eddie to push him away, to say that this isn’t what he wants, that Richie isn’t _who_ he wants. But Eddie is silent and Richie thinks he might have fallen asleep but no, he can feel Eddie’s hand slowly coming up to wrap around the thick of Richie’s forearm.

“You didn’t do anything, Richie.” Eddie’s voice is quiet, barely there over the raw sounds from him crying. “It’s me.”

 _Ah, the old “it’s not you, it’s me” speech._ No way in hell was Richie letting Eddie get away with thinking this is his fault. “Bullshit, the second you saw me today you bolted into the house like I had actually fucked your mother.”

Eddie lets out a puff of air, a pseudo-laugh that calms the little ball of anxiety in Richie’s chest. “If I tell you, please don’t be mad o-or interrupt me.” Despite the lightness in his tone, Richie can tell that Eddie is nervous and that makes him all the more nervous.

“Pinky promise,” he whispers, wrapping his pinky around Eddie’s as best he can in this position. No interruptions, no getting mad; he can do this.

Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, despite the pitch-darkness of the room, Eddie begins. “I always thought that it was just me wanting to hang out with you more, like best friends do. I thought it was just that simple, childhood friendship that we had always had. I thought- fuck, I thought it was _fine_ until I saw you win the talent show freshmen year and you looked so happy that my heart just went fucking crazy. After that, it was every little thing you did; the way you smiled, the way you dressed, even the way you said my name. I wanted to live in that feeling all the time. I thought I could but today you- I saw you and that girl and it just showed me what I’ll never have and it hurts, Richie.” Eddie takes a shaky breath, shoulders hunching up as he tries to close in around himself, help open only partly by Richie’s arm. “It hurts to have my mother taken from me, no matter how much I wanted it, and it hurts to have _you_ taken from me, even though you were never mine to have.”

Richie stays silent through it all, working hard to keep his promise to Eddie. At first, he’s confused; did Eddie think that Richie didn’t want to be friends with him? It isn’t until Eddie mentions the girl, his neighbor, someone he barely knew; he couldn’t even remember what they were talking about earlier or what might make Eddie- _fuck, the kiss_. “Eddie, what are you saying?” He needs it to be clear, needs Eddie to say it outright or else he’ll never have to courage to do it.

“I love you, Richie.”

There it is, everything Richie has wanted to hear since they were 10 years old. The floodgates of his heart have opened and he’s so full of emotion that all he can do it roll Eddie over and looking into his eyes, searching for any sign that he’s lying or playing a prank. Seeing nothing but pure devotion, Richie leans in and kisses him, soft and gentle, like a bee landing on a flower.

At first, Eddie is motionless but as the seconds tick by and Richie is still there, lips moving timidly across his own, he pulls himself together and kisses back, more forceful than Richie but trying so hard to hold himself back. He can feel Richie’s hand bunching in his shirt and he reaches up to grip him by his hair. This is everything he’s wanted, everything he thought he’d never have. Their lips move together, sliding against each other in a slow and passionate dance. Soft breaths and the quietest of sounds push their way out of their chests and into the heating air. Soon, though, they pull away, lungs contracting as they gasp for air. Eddie’s eyes, still wet from crying, shine in the soft moonlight that is coming through Richie’s window and he smiles.

“I love you too, Eds.” Richie murmurs, his eyes flitting down to Eddie’s lips before coming back up to his eyes. “Have since we were kids.”

Eddie huffs, smiling gently. “We still are kids, dumbass.” And maybe they are but they’re kids in love and they both know that there’s no place they’d rather be but in each other’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! I'm sorry for such a long wait between Chapter 6 and 7. A lot of things happened in my life and I just couldn't find the inspiration needed for this final chapter. I hope it was worth the wait!


End file.
